


Shower Time

by orphan_account



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Female Reader, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 17:48:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18348629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: You stumble upon a naked cowboy and shenanigans ensue.





	Shower Time

Facilities in the slightly usable Gibraltar base, the new headquarters for the only slightly illegal new Overwatch, were minimal to say the least. There were only a few toilets that still flushed properly, and the showers were mostly shared considering the individual showers in rooms leaked some kind of brown fluid that Torbjörn still needed to check.

Alas, he was kind of busy first making sure the foundations didn’t all break down, so everyone had collectively decided not to mention the showers until further notice.

And so it was a beautiful Thursday morning- Zarya, Tracer, Mercy and Mei were out on a mission, leaving you alone with a mostly male crew around the base. It showed.

Breakfast had gone from fresh fruits and eggs to cornflakes for everyone. Despite Winston’s best attempts, he didn’t fit in the kitchen and no one else really bothered to.

If only Pharah wasn’t occupied she could fly over in her magical power suit and make some decent food. You slapped another portion of cornflakes into your bowl.

The last mission had left you with bruised ribs and a bullet in your shoulder, which Mercy luckily was able to get out right before the dropship picked her up. It still felt a little sore and due to the hassle around base you hadn’t thought about getting a shower, but then you’d made the wrong decision to try out your personal shower.

So now you were in the mess hall with a stained shirt and bags under your eyes, eating cornflakes like you hadn’t eaten in 10 days.

Maybe you should check out the communal showers. Who’d be in there? Soldier: 76 took so much care to hide his face that he knew everyone’s movement around communal areas, and Winston was- did Winston take showers? Probably. Genji had to take special care what with his robotics so he usually just waited until Mercy or Pharah was around, and you’d heard Torbjörn and Reinhardt chat in the lounge.

Sounds like a plan.

You finished your bowl swiftly and left it on the table where everyone else had left all their dirty dishes- you’d come back and clean it. Someday. Preferably before Zarya came back. She was surprisingly a stickler for cleanliness.

You knew Tracer and Winston had made sure there was enough linen in the communal showers, so you didn’t really bring anything- you just needed a quick rinse and if you could snag some shampoo, you could wash your hair.

You don’t hear any water running through the door.

So logically, you step in- ready for refreshments and relaxing- but find yourself face to face with a completely naked cowboy.

He’s got his wet hair slicked back, water still running down his neck and throat and you follow the drops carefully as  they slide down his bulky, hairy chest. Usually that’d be a bit of a turn-off, but it fit his aesthetics so well it only made his tan skin look better.

It was only when the droplets went down a bit too far that you realized you were staring straight at his dick.

You refrained from judging it in your head, though you’d have to say the evaluation would be in his favor. It was only after the second time that he coughed that you heard, eyes locking with his.

You felt yourself blushing in places you didn’t know where possible.

“Enjoyin’ the view?” he grins, moving his arms to make everything more visible- you guess, because you are looking straight at the ceiling.

“I thought- I wanted to-“ you stutter, but you find yourself unable to close the door.

“Take a shower, I reckon,” he completes your sentence for you and you settle for a hasty nod.

“We’re all adults here, darlin’. No need to be shy. I was just about to leave.”

You are guessing he’s genuinely smiling, so you take the chance and step in- kicking off your slippers and heading straight for the cupboard with towels. The stark white is a huge difference compared to McCree’s toned chest, lined with muscles-

It probably looks hilarious when you stop that train of thought by slamming a hand against a nearby locker.

“Havin’ trouble?”

He sounds incredibly amused.

“The cupboard needed a banging.”

In fact, you too might now need a banging. You bite your lip to stop that one from slipping out.

“It’s alright now, darlin’, I’m decent.”

You turn very carefully with a few towels in your arms, and he’s telling the truth- sort of. He’s wearing his boxers at least, simple and black and kind of tight.

Fuck.

“Put on some pants or so help me-“ you say, but you pause. So help you what? You’re going to help him get dressed? That wouldn’t end well. He seems to have the same train of thought as he lets out a chuckle.

“Oh come on, surely you’ve seen a naked man before,” he smiles, leaning against his locker. He looks so incredibly casual and fuckable it’s almost illegal.

“Duh!” you yell- perhaps not as convincing as you thought, “it’s just been a while what with saving the world and such and things.”

He just hums and doesn’t sound convinced either.

“There’s no shame in wantin’ some action, pumpkin.”

You disagree, hastily trotting by him into one of the cabins.

“This is a-“ you pause, “sort of professional environment, there will be no action wanting from anyone in this room.”

You hear another rich, deep chuckle before the door closes and you are left with your indecent thoughts.

* * *

Every damn time you saw his face you saw his dick. In the meeting room, during briefings. Or passing by in the hallway. When you were having dinner with everyone. It was the most shameful barrage of dick-thoughts you’d ever had.

And you felt ashamed to say you wanted to know what it’d feel like inside you.

McCree knew, of course. He wasn’t an idiot, though he sometimes tried to appear like one. And was very good at pretending to be one.

One afternoon you find him walking down the hall carrying a towel.

“Hey there,” he winks, making you have to stop and acknowledge him.

“Hello,” you smile back, trying to appear calm and collected.

“I’m off to the showers. Want to join, pumpkin?”

“I’d love to-“

It slips out before you can stop yourself, a week’s worth of pent up frustrations perfectly expressed into a few words- and though there’s a split second of confusion on Jesse’s face, he quickly grins in a wolfish manner.

“I’d love to not to-“ you quickly say, biting your lip and looking away, “not?”

He places a warm hand on your bare forearm and leans in close enough to let you feel his warm breath on your ear.

“Offer’s open, honey. All you gotta do is say the word.”

“I-“ you start, but you are red and only thinking about his tobacco smell right now.

“No rush. The wait makes it more exciting,” he finishes, and you can hear the wink though you can’t see it, inhaling sharply.

When he walks away you stare at his tight butt in those great jeans.

Fuck.

* * *

Now, instead of seeing his penis, you see him leaning above you, sweaty and naked as he fucks you silly.

It’s worse.

Especially when he leaves his shirt open on days he doesn’t have to leave for a mission, or when he wears those damn jeans.

Your power naps are filled with very short, very arousing dreams of different positions and kinks- leaving you to wonder what he’d like and how he’d please you. You imagine he’s a ladies man, and knows how to make a woman feel good.

Or he’s really good at pretending to be.

Either way, the fantasy you built up of McCree is fucking amazing at it.

You are having one such power nap- he’s got you pinned against the wall of your room and is biting at your throat,  hands massaging your breasts while his arousal rubs up against you- and are enjoying it thoroughly when one particular touch feels too real.

His hand caresses your face and you moan softly while waking up, finding yourself staring right at the real McCree, still dressed, not biting you.

“Sorry, darlin’, wanted to warn you that the junkers will be stormin’ this place in a good 5 minutes.”

You are still blinking the sleep away but sit up, noticing that hand lingers on your shoulder.

“Good dream?” he winks, smiling- and the sleep still lingering in your brain stops you from saying the next bit.

“Yeah, you were amazing.”

It’s eerily quiet between you two while Junkrat’s running makes a loud thumping noise down the hall.

“Guess they’re early,” Jesse smiles, “want to take this conversation elsewhere?”

You nod shyly, He leads you through several of the halls into the men’s corridor, where most of their rooms are. He easily opens a door all the way at the end- and by the serape draped over a chair and hat hanging from a coat hanger, you confirm you’re in his room.

He motions for you to sit on the bed and you notice he’s not making a funny face when he kneels down in front of you.

“I must’ve not been very clear before, pumpkin, but I feel like you’re compromisin’ our professional relationship.”

You let out a set of weird noises in confusion.

“Either you do or you don’t. Both are fine, but you need to be makin’ a decision.”

He’s right. Either you shut this down right now and get yourself a good vibrator, or you are for once open and honest and ask him to take you right here.

“I-“ your eyes roam around his face, “I really do. I just don’t want to risk-“

“Ain’t no riskin’ anything. We’re adults, we can make grown-up decisions. Despite what 76 seems to think sometimes,” he adds the subtle jab at the end and you smile.

“So, what we’re you dreamin’ about?”

There’s the wolfish grin.

“Several things,” you start, turning away to stare at the wall, “b-biting and pinning down and such…”

“And things,” he completes, standing up and unbuttoning his shirt.

You stare intently while his chest is revealed inch by inch, wildly blushing- part of you is thinking you are still dreaming but the room smells so distinctly like McCree that it’s nigh impossible.

When he turns- open shirt, casually hooking his thumbs in his jeans- his eyes are most likely mentally undressing you as well.

“And what would you like me to do, darlin’?”

It’s low and husky and you feel a jolt of electricity in your stomach. It’s definitely a question but you can feel the hint of a command.

And you love it.

“Uh,” you sigh, remembering how amazing at sex talk you are, “whatever, really.”

“Whatever?”

Oh no, he’s stalking toward you with a playful hint in his eyes. Your hands are awkwardly laying down in your lap and you are having a hard time keeping eye contact when he’s close enough to lean over you, tilting your head with a warm hand.

“I don’t think you should be givin’ a man so much freedom.”

You raise an eyebrow- sure, it’s been a while since you’ve done whoopie but you were an internationally known soldier with a specific knack for hand-to-hand combat, so you would like to be treated as a capable adult.

“I think I can,” you reply, crossing your arms. You seem to be forgetting what you’re here for, but this is still McCree. What’s the worst he can do, throw a lasso?

Absolutely terrifying.

“Why don’t you get out of those clothes and we’ll see, pumpkin,” he whispers, ghosting a kiss on your lips and  getting back up, crossing his arms in a similar fashion to yours and seemingly waiting for you to start.

“I will!”

He seems to bite back a chuckle, keeping the stern, sultry look hanging by a thread- so you get up with a determined kind of pout as you easily slip off your pants and top, kicking  your sneakers and socks into a forgotten corner.

“All of them,” he says, eyeing your plain sports bra and boxers- who could blame you, there wasn’t really any time for lingerie shopping and this was entirely unplanned.

That, and this was your comfiest bra.

“Why don’t you, uh,” the sentence sounded playful and seductive in your head but comes out more like a hesitant statement, “make me?”

He can’t keep up the façade anymore now- letting out a loud chuckle before striding over and putting his hands on your bare waist.

“Leave the talkin’ to me, honey, and you can just be your own sexy self,” he reassures, hands slowly roaming up as he plays with the elastic border of your bra, seemingly waiting for another one of your remarks. But you just nod, awkwardly keeping your hands by your side.

He gladly takes the invitation, dragging it up and over your head after you lift your arms, and you see how his eyes are focused on drinking in the sights. It flusters you how he’s just looking, but that quickly changes when he leans in and your lips connect- they’re slightly cracked and pretty rough, but the force with which he kisses  you is slightly overwhelming. You stumble back onto the bed and he sneaks an arm around your waist to make sure your lips stay interlocked.

And then he bites your lip, softly, licking at your upper lip and easily sneaking in his tongue as his free hand cups a breast. You find yourself sneaking your arms around his neck when he kisses down your jaw and neck, scraping his teeth along every once in a while and each time you think he’s going to get rougher, you’re left letting out a small whine.

When he finally lets you lay back onto the bed, he raises your legs and slips off your boxers- leaving you very much revealed. Completely. He drags up his hands along your back and squeezes your ass before leaving them where they are, so he can lean down and kiss your thigh- you hide your face in your hands because you can see everything.

“Look at me,” he orders it more to your thigh than your face, but you open your fingers slightly so you can see him and the sight is absolutely stunning. He looks positively enamored with you.

He slowly moves one hand closer to your folds and you do your best to steady yourself, needing to use one hand to latch onto his thighs.

“Aren’t you the sweetest lil’ princess, all wet and still shy-“ one finger drags up and along your folds and you bite back a whine, “I bet you like it real rough.”

You hum what can only be described as a note of affirmation.

“Cute,” he remarks before finding your clit- and immediately making work of it. He exchanges the finger on your clit for his mouth and takes to licking and sucking, all the while teasing the rest of your folds with his fingers and significantly increasing the hold on your ass- digging in nails and most definitely leaving marks.

“ ‘M not cute,” you huff, trying to keep the moans at bay in a very stupid display of willpower. You didn’t really know what you were proving. But you were doing it.

“Sure you are, darlin’,” his scruff is tickling you and you can feel his warm breath all too well, “could eat you right up.”

He proves his point by biting down on your thigh, finally making you let out a needy moan at the contact. You shuffle around slightly and feel his erection very clearly- you can hear the hitch in his breath when you rub along the length.

“Switch,” you say, tapping his thigh while he quite aggressively fingers you and licks at your clit- you’re starting to see stars and you’re afraid you’ll be all out of energy before you’ve even got what you wanted.

He pulls back and lets you shuffle down so your back is back on the bed, but he climbs over you instead of letting you take the reigns- positioning his length at your entrance carefully.

“Ready?”

His voice is a mere rumble and when you give a curt nod, he enters in one fell swoop- taking a bit of a break when he’s completely inside to let you both get used to the feeling.

“Dear Lord, you are tight,” he huffs in your ear as you grasp at his back.

“That’s what she said,” you laugh with a moan, earning you a careful stroke along your g-spot which makes you see stars.

“Next time there won’t be any jokin’, pumpkin,” he promises, biting at your ear, and the promise of more makes you gasp for air when he accompanies it with a few quick thrusts.

“I can’t wait,” you huff, “…sir.”

There’s only a very short pause while the word sinks in, and with some kind of newfound energy he bucks his hips and slides in and out at a steady and fast pace- you can’t help your whines and moans anymore, holding a hand in front of your mouth to no avail when he bites down on your nipples and runs his nails down your back.

“What I’d give,” he needs to pause to take a breath but the thrusting doesn’t stop, “to have you at my mercy-“

You blush, wondering what exactly he means by that.

You don’t have time to imagine it when his hands massage your breasts and his mouth goes back to biting your neck, leaving a string of marks along it.

“All whinin’ and moanin’ for me-“

His thrusts are getting more erratic and deep, and you can hear by the growl in his voice that he’s getting close.

“Would’ya like that, pumpkin? Bein’ a mess for me?”

He looks you in the eye when he asks the question, twisting your nipples with his fingers and you have to admit the pang of pain is sending you bordering on orgasm-

“I’d-“

“Just a ‘yes, sir’ will do, darlin’,” he growls as a few moans start escaping his lips.

“Yes, sir,” you manage to say the words before the orgasm hits and your head falls back- he continues at his wild tempo while his moans get rowdier and more animalistic until he stops- erection twitching as you feel him fill you up.

He unceremoniously drops down next to you on the bed.

“Wow,” you whisper, congratulating yourself for accidentally walking in on McCree naked. What a good accident.

“That about sums it up,” Jesse agrees, running his thumb over your lips.

“Get  yourself some lace. You’d look good in lace.”

“Yes, sir,” you wink with a smile.


End file.
